


a world alone

by ImSoSupernova



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Misandrist!Noora, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sad drunk!Eva, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImSoSupernova/pseuds/ImSoSupernova
Summary: noora is angry and eva is sad. they've both got a bit of steam to blow off.





	a world alone

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally written for skam girls' week, unfortunately, i didn't quite make it in time. as always, lots of love to [zoë](ziggy-sapphdust.tumblr.com) for being a wonderful and supportive beta <3

noora is angry all the time. 

she’s sitting in class, on her couch, on a bench in the schoolyard, and then it bubbles up inside her, this  _ rage,  _ like fire, until she’s clenching her fists so tightly her nails are biting into her skin and she feels like she has to yell, kick, punch, do something,  _ anything  _ to alleviate all this  _ feeling  _ building up inside of her. 

sometimes, noora thinks that she spends most of her life teetering on the edge.

she tries to find an outlet for these feelings. she starts exercising, going to the gym to lift weights with vilde, starts eating healthier, spending hours scouring grocery stores for ingredients and roping her flatmates into helping her trying out new recipes. one night, when she’s been lying awake for hours, clenching and unclenching her fists until her palms are burning, eskild helps her shave off all her hair. and it helps. somewhat. but every once in awhile she’ll be talking with the girls about some party, or sitting behind a group of boys in class, or watching some crap tv show, and maybe eva will talk about some guy who tried to hit on her, or she’ll overhear a guy make some off-hand comment about a girl he met at a party, or a character will say some dumb joke about his wife or girlfriend and some laugh track will play, and noora is forced to remember once again how these people, these  _ men _ will always view her, will always view eva, will always view  _ all _ girls: as objects, toys to use and abuse. 

and she remembers how  _ he  _ was, how he chewed her up and spit her out in chunks, and then left her scrambling around, trying to put her pieces back together, and how she should have known,  _ she should have known,  _ because didn’t he do the same to her friend first, fuck her and leave her spiraling. how she should have expected it, because guys like him don’t change, will never change. they take nice girls and burn through them, leave their hollow shells and sooty remains in their wake. but no matter what, these girls will keep coming back, because they've always been taught to believe that they don't deserve any better. because  _ she  _ was taught that she didn’t deserve any better.

she remembers this, and the anger grows.

 

eva is sad, most of the time. or maybe not sad, maybe frustrated, angry, confused. she isn’t really sure. but maybe that’s the point. eva’s hardly ever really sure about anything. 

everything in her life is confusing nowadays—her schoolwork, what exactly her relationship with jonas is now, and most of all, what the feeling in her stomach she had when she first saw noora after she shaved her head, and then every single day since means.

maybe that’s why she likes parties so much. from the moment she and her friends enter the house, eva knows exactly what’s going to happen: she, vilde, and chris will have a few drinks (vilde will have wine, chris, beer, and eva, vodka) and hit the dance floor, chris will be swept up with some guy, vilde will dance with eva until a guy calls eva over, and after that it’s more drinks, kissing, and blur. sometimes there’s tears, or something breaks, or the cops come, but the next morning is always pretty much the same--headache, and foul taste in her mouth, and all alone.

and she  _ knows _ it’s not healthy, knows that she’ll probably regret this twenty or so years in the future, but for now, it’s a routine. something she can count on. no matter what happens during the week, there’ll always be a party to get drunk at on friday.

eva knows other people notice it too. she’s not completely ignorant. she hears the things people say behind her back on mondays:  _ slut. attention-seeker. troubled. alcoholic. Easy. desperate.  _ she hears these things. and sometimes she wonders if they’re right. 

she gets tired of it sometimes, too. tired of how guys look at her when she’s at parties, like they can’t wait to try and get with her, like they have a right to her body just because she’s tipsy, and knowing that they may very well be right, tired of waking up with her head pounding, and only pictures and videos people have posted online can tell her what she did last night. of feeling like a mess or a burden whenever her friends have to carry her home or hold her hair when she throws up.

but no matter how bad she feels in the morning after, she knows that next friday will always be the same. someone will give her a drink, and then someone else will give her another, and everything will happen like it always does.

she knows this, and she doesn’t know how to stop.

 

it's another party, and noora’s sitting off to the side, watching her friends and everyone else get plastered, and feeling restless. she can feel people watching her, staring at her stubbly head and her loose clothes and her bare face, whispering about it to their friends, and the longer she sits there, the more she wants to confront them, yell at them, tell them to  _ tell it to her face,  _ or not at all. but there's so many of them, and she knows none of them want to change, so she just sits there, clenching and unclenching her fists, and watching the clock slowly tick down.

once it hits midnight noora's done. she's sick of sitting around, sick of the drunk people throwing themselves about around her, of the loud cheers and giggles she hears from the dance floor. but she knows she can't disappear without telling anyone, so she gets up to go look for one of her friends.

and then she sees eva,  _ eva who's drunk, eva who's surrounded by a group of guys laughing uproariously, eva, who's shifting from side to side as if she's looking for something, eva, whose eyes light up the moment she sees noora, and noora, whose heart swells as soon as she sees that look, so much she can barely breathe… _

and then she's approaching the group of guys and eva, and the sound of their laughter makes her sick, and then eva rushes over to fling her arms around noora in that drunken eva way, and all noora wants to do is hug her back, hold her close to her chest and never let her go...but the guys are still there, and she can feel their stares boring into her skin and the words that they're thinking but not saying yet, and so noora just says “i think i’m gonna head out now, eva”, and lets go. eva heaves a dramatic sigh and pouts a little, as noora expected she would, but then she turns back to those guys and noora turns to walk away, feeling a strange emptiness in her stomach.

and then she hears eva say, “i think i’m gonna head out too”, and one of the guys groans and says, “aww, but we were having so much fun”, and eva laughs and says, “maybe some other time”, and the guy asks her “what's wrong with tonight?”, but his voice isn't playful anymore, it's got a slick dark edge to it that makes noora's stomach churn and her blood boil, and the rest of the guys are laughing and noora stops walking, trying to stem this angry tide rising inside her. and eva’s still laughing but there's a different edge now, razor thin and blink-and-you'll-miss-it, but there as she says “i’m just not feeling it tonight--let go of me!” 

and she's stopped laughing. and something inside noora snaps.

and suddenly everything around her is slow, white-hot rage, bubbling and blinding her. and the next thing noora remembers is the sensation of her fist connecting with the guy’s jaw. and then everything speeds up again. and eva’s gasping and the guys are all yelling and noora's hand is throbbing, and she realizes that she has to get out-- _ right now.  _ so she says ‘alright eva, it's time to go”, and grabs her hand. and runs. 

 

eva’s mind is foggy and she's stumbling everywhere, trying to match noora's pace and process what’s just happened. and then noora pulls her off to the side and down behind a bush and watching as the guys run by. they're so close together, noora's arms around eva’s shoulders, gently guiding her to the ground, eva’s head resting against noora's cheek, their faces inches apart…

and eva’s feeling it again, that  _ whatever-it-is  _ in the pit of her stomach that makes her heart race and her palms sweat, that she's started feeling every time she's been around noora and can't seem to make it stop. and then eva’s mind flashes to another night--another drunken stupor, another guy, another punch thrown. only that time it was jonas, in what eva had thought was a jealous rage. the events of both nights play in her mind, over and over again, and then eva realizes something: how she felt that night and how she feels now…is the same. how she felt around jonas and how she feels around noora…is the same.

and right then, as noora stirs and eva can tell she's about to get up, eva leans forward. and she kisses her.

 

noora's heart is racing and she can barely keep herself still as eva scrabbles at the latch on her window. she manages to unhitch it, and the two practically fall into eva’s room, kissing, kissing, kissing, and holding each other tight, tighter,  _ tighter-- _

and then noora's back is flat against the comforter of eva’s bed, her fingers tangling themselves in eva’s soft, sweaty hair, chests pressed together and legs around her waist, and everything inside noora that was burning white hot and angry an hour ago has melted away and been replaced with a feeling of absolute bliss and a whole different kind of fire because eva’s hands are sliding their way under noora's shirt, wending their way around her stomach and ribs, and noora's breathing is ragged and so is eva’s as noora traces her fingers down eva’s spine, slow and then faster and grasping at her shirt because she wants more, more,  _ more,  _ they both do--

and then eva leans over and whispers in noora's ear, “come to bed with me”, and sends a thrill down noora's spine and noora laughs and says, “we’re already in bed, eva”, and eva murmurs, “you know what i mean”, and her fingers begin to work their way up under noora's bra and around her breasts, and knocks noora's breath away because she's dreamt of this for so long and everything about this moment is  _ perfect  _ really, except--

“you're  _ drunk, _ eva,” noora sighs, and moves to gently push her off, but eva just giggles and says, “i don't mind. i  _ want  _ you to,” and begins to kiss the hollow of noora's neck and then lower,  _ lower,  _ and for a moment noora's mind goes completely blank because  _ God  _ does she want to too, has wanted to for so long, and being there feels more amazing than she could ever imagine, but the taste of liquor is on her tongue from all these kisses, and so, with a heavy heart and to the best of her ability between gasps, noora whispers, “how about we wait till tomorrow, eva?”, and gently but more firmly moves to push eva off again, and eva pouts but allows herself to be moved, murmuring, “okay, i guess tomorrow,” and her eyelids start to flutter closed. 

noora reaches over to smooth eva’s hair and kiss her cheek, and she whispers gently in her ear, “tomorrow.”

 

eva wakes up with a pounding headache and noora whispering “good morning” and leaning over to kiss her, and eva can't help smiling because even though her head aches and she still feels woozy, this time she's not waking up alone. and it's a start.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @stonebutchnoora


End file.
